We Can Do Just What You Like
by celeste9
Summary: The one where Becker's a rent boy. Matt/Becker


_****_A/N: For kink bingo, "prostitution/sex work". Title from Cobra Starship.

_**We Can Do Just What You Like**_

Matt was regretting making the call up until the moment he opened his door and saw the bloke. He was young, definitely younger than Matt, but tall, dark, and bloody gorgeous, shirt hanging open to reveal a tantalising bit of chest hair, tight leather trousers and an arse to die for. Matt swallowed, his knuckles whitening against the wall.

The bloke, Becker, was from a pretty high-end escort service and Matt knew people didn't always hire escorts for sex. Still, as he stared at Becker, he wondered if anyone could ever hire him and not decide they wanted sex, after all.

Becker's expression was slightly cocky and yet supremely inviting. "I gather you're Matt?"

All Matt could manage was a nod, feeling like his brain cells were leaking out of his ears. Jesus, he was acting like a sodding teenager.

"Gonna let me in?"

"Oh," Matt said and stepped away from the door, letting him inside. He pushed the door closed and turned around.

Becker was simply watching him, a small smile on his face.

This was still probably a bad idea. The thing was, Matt had needs and this was easier than having to find someone himself. Easier than risking that he'd unintentionally hurt someone by not calling because no matter how hard he tried to find people who didn't _want _him to call them, he still worried about it. Nothing was more anonymous and simple than prostitution, right?

But Matt had never actually paid for sex before. "So, uh, I guess you're Becker."

"That's right."

An awkward silence fell upon the room. Matt fidgeted. "Do you..." He cleared his throat. "Do you want a beer or something?"

Becker's smile had widened. "You've never done this before, have you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah. But don't worry, it always is. Just... relax. I'm here for whatever you want. If all you want is to drink beer and talk, then we'll drink beer and talk, but there's no need to feel obligated to offer me anything."

He didn't say that sex cost more, as they'd discussed, and that he'd come here expecting that that was what Matt wanted. Matt wondered how often Becker got surprised and if it was terribly rude to turn the tables on him.

Not that Matt was seriously considering forgoing the sex. He was getting there.

Because he felt like he could use a bit of liquid courage, he went into the kitchen and got two beers, popping the lids off. He drained nearly half of his in one go and then almost pissed himself when he turned around to see Becker had followed him and was standing right up in Matt's personal space.

Becker's smirk should have been annoying and possibly insulting, but it wasn't. He reached for the beer in Matt's other hand and took it, bringing it to his lips. Matt was captivated by the long line of his throat as he swallowed, cock twitching as he imagined that mouth wrapped around something other than a beer bottle.

He had the distinct impression that Becker had a fair idea of what he'd been thinking of. Becker put his beer on the counter and then took Matt's to do the same. He closed the small distance between them, the heat from his body radiating out, and settled his hands on Matt's hips.

"I think you want me for more than just beer," Becker said, watching Matt intently. He had really nice eyes and Matt wondered if it made him a girl to notice that. Especially considering he was an escort, for fuck's sake. What sort of a man hires an escort and thinks, hey, you've got great eyes?

Okay, stop thinking about his eyes. You aren't getting a hard-on because of his eyes. "Yes," Matt said.

Becker nuzzled Matt's ear. "It's a cliché, I know, but I only kiss clients on the mouth when they've hired me to be their boyfriend. Costs a bit extra. But I'll kiss you wherever else you'd like." He kissed Matt's jaw and Matt's neck, his breath puffing warm against Matt's skin. "Is that okay?"

"Yes," Matt exhaled and ran his hands down Becker's back, squeezing that perfect arse. Hell, he was paying for this and Becker was maybe the most attractive man Matt had ever seen. He was going to take advantage of the situation.

"Tell me what you want."

It burst out of Matt before he could stop it. "Your mouth, Christ, your mouth."

Becker laughed where he'd been nipping at Matt's collar bone. "What about my mouth?"

Matt huffed in frustration and embarrassment, wondering if any of Becker's other clients made themselves into such enormous fools.

Becker sank gracefully onto his knees, his fingertips pressing into the skin of Matt's waist. He rubbed his cheek against Matt's cock through his trousers, then looked coyly up at Matt through his eyelashes. "Is this what you mean?" He tugged down Matt's zip with his teeth. Matt hadn't thought anyone actually did that outside of porn films.

Then again, Becker probably got asked to do a lot of things people learned about from watching porn.

And possibly he'd been _in _porn. Oh, dear God. Matt's eyes rolled back in his head as his cock ended up further down a throat than he'd ever been before in his life. He fisted his hands in Becker's hair, heedless of whether he was yanking or not, and tried not to clue in his neighbours as to what he was up to at the moment.

Probably he wasn't all that successful. He had never in his life had a blow job as thorough as the one Becker was giving him, licking with the flat of his tongue up Matt's cock and sucking Matt's balls, before sliding his pursed lips up the shaft. He was holding hard onto Matt's hips but Matt was still bucking forward into his mouth like he could fuck himself even deeper into Becker's mouth, though he was pretty sure that was impossible.

Becker did this thing where he hollowed his cheeks and hummed around Matt's cock and it was _amazing. _In the still rational part of his mind Matt acknowledged that Becker did this for money, that he was paid to make men happy, to make them think things that weren't true, but still he couldn't help but think that Becker gave blow jobs like he loved it.

He just managed to gasp out a warning before he came down Becker's throat, although the way he was still clutching Becker's head surely wasn't polite. His legs felt limp as he tried to regain control of his breathing and focused on watching Becker get back to his feet.

Becker spat into the sink and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. His lips looked red and wet and Matt wanted to kiss him more than anything. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the only thing Becker _wouldn't_ do.

"You've got me for the whole hour. Anything else you'd like, Matt?"

Matt hesitated, reaching out to stroke his hand lightly down Becker's chest. "Can I… You, can I have you?" He was such an idiot. This was embarrassing.

"That's the point, isn't it? I am yours," Becker said, his voice low and seductive. He stepped forward to guide Matt back, back out of the kitchen. He kept moving until the backs of Matt's legs hit the sofa and then he pushed down on Matt's shoulders until his arse was on the cushion.

Becker took a few steps away. "I think this is what you mean?" he said and bent to take off his shoes.

Matt was of the opinion that it was impossible to make that look sexy, but Becker somehow managed to at least look natural, with not a trace of awkwardness or ungainliness. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, lingering at each one to reveal his skin almost unbearably slowly, the firm muscles of his chest and his flat stomach.

A desperate desire to know what it would be like to nuzzle Becker's chest pushed its way to the forefront of Matt's mind. He wanted to rub his nose in that fuzzy patch of hair and was suddenly irrationally jealous of anyone who might get to do that. He wondered if Becker had a boyfriend. Or, he supposed, a girlfriend. He wondered how much it would cost to keep Becker for a whole night.

Becker finally let his shirt fall to the ground and then popped the button on his trousers, sliding his hand down the front to fondle himself.

Matt made a completely humiliating needy sound and Becker chuckled and removed his hand, stalking forward to straddle Matt on the sofa. Matt's hands hovered over Becker's hips and Becker said quietly, "Go on, touch me if you want. I'm still yours," his lips brushing against Matt's skin.

So obviously Matt did just that, yanking Becker towards him and sliding his hands everywhere he could reach, over all that delicious skin and the muscles beneath. Becker was rocking his hips forward and Matt was getting hard again already, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in Becker's sweet arse.

"You can," Becker whispered into Matt's ear, making Matt wonder if he'd actually said that out loud. "You want to fuck me? Do it."

"Oh, God, yes," Matt said and shoved Becker down onto the sofa, sucking wetly into Becker's throat. He wasn't even sure if that was something people did with escorts but sod it, he wanted to, and Becker hadn't said he couldn't.

Becker laughed, baring his throat but pressing on Matt's shoulders. "You'd better let me take these trousers off, first."

Reluctantly Matt went back on his heels to let Becker out from underneath him. The trousers came off with a surprising degree of ease, considering how tight they looked, but perhaps Becker had a lot of practice. Matt wasn't at all surprised Becker wasn't wearing any underwear.

"You might want to get those off, too," Becker suggested. "Unless you'd rather keep them on?"

Stupidly Matt glanced down at himself and remembered he was wearing all his clothes. He solved that problem quickly.

When Becker settled back on the sofa, he produced a condom seemingly out of nowhere. It was probably better not to ask.

"How would you like me?" Becker asked with a saucy smile.

_Every way, _Matt couldn't stop himself from thinking. He was sure that he could do all sorts of fantastic, dirty things with Becker, but he only had time for one. Despite the strange urge he had to watch Becker's pretty face, it wasn't a terribly difficult decision.

The man had a fucking amazing arse. Matt wouldn't mind the view from the back.

"On your knees," Matt told him.

So Becker turned over and presented his arse, making an inviting sort of wriggle. Matt decided it was lucky that he'd already come once because there was a very strong likelihood he would have embarrassed himself otherwise.

Embarrassed himself more than he already had, anyway.

He bent forward to lick along Becker's spine as Becker shuddered beneath him, an encouraging stream of babble falling from his lips. Matt stroked the curve of Becker's arse and followed with his mouth. He slipped his finger between Becker's cheeks and then looked at Becker watching him from over his shoulder. "Hey, let me get some lube first. I don't want to hurt you."

A soft, startled expression passed swiftly over Becker's face.

"I mean, isn't that... Don't people do that with you?"

"Mostly just a couple of my regulars." But then Becker smiled and said, "Thanks for thinking about it, but you don't have to worry. I always prepare myself before I see anyone."

Of course he did. Matt felt stupid for not realising that but Becker still was wearing that soft expression like he thought Matt was cute or something. It was less embarrassing than it probably should have been.

Matt was getting the idea that even if he was the one paying, and no matter how many times Becker told him he'd do whatever Matt wanted, Becker was really the one with the power here. It was sort of freeing.

"You're welcome to check, if you like," Becker suggested.

Surprised, Matt stared for a second before running one fingertip around Becker's hole and then sliding it in. Becker certainly hadn't messed about; he was slick enough inside to ease the entry of even the most well-endowed man. Matt slipped in another finger and crooked them, enjoying Becker's reaction. He made a wonderful array of noises, soft and loud and everything in between, and Matt was pretty sure that while it might be a show for his own benefit, some of it was still real.

When he removed his fingers, he ran his hand over his cock and then heard Becker say, "Wait a moment, Matt."

Becker turned back over and in one fluid movement, his eyes on Matt's face the entire time, he rolled the condom onto Matt's cock with his mouth. Matt almost choked and thought that that was nearly unbearably hot.

Becker was grinning at him as he went back onto his hands and knees, raising his arse in the air.

His self-control basically evaporated, Matt grabbed Becker's hips and thrust in, burying himself to his balls and forcing himself to wait just a few seconds to let Becker get used to the intrusion before he pulled back out and in.

"Oh, fuck, yes, Matt, that's so good, you feel so good," Becker was saying, amongst little breathy moans. He had such a great voice, he sounded like sex personified as he murmured a constant stream of filth. Clearly Becker could have a promising career in the phone sex industry.

Maybe he did that, too.

"Touch yourself," Matt said. "I want to see you come."

So Becker did, leaning his weight on one arm and stroking his other hand over his cock, quickly and efficiently until he was spilling out all over Matt's sofa. The sight of it and the sound he made was all Matt needed to go over the edge himself, spasming in Becker's arse.

He held onto Becker as he recovered, pressing a kiss into his skin and thinking that this might have been the best idea he'd ever had. He got to fuck a gorgeous man, no questions and no strings, and he didn't even have to work to get him into bed. And not that Matt had actually asked for anything particularly strange or kinky, but he could have. He could have and Becker wouldn't have batted an eyelid.

The used condom got tossed onto the pile of Matt's clothes and he leaned back against the arm of the sofa, feeling very pleasantly relaxed. He thought he could quite happily remain there the rest of the night, though sadly he knew he would shortly lose the warm weight of the man resting against his thighs.

But not before Becker squeezed Matt's waist and kissed his shoulder. "Aren't you glad we didn't stick with the beer?"

Matt chuckled. "It looks like you knew what I really wanted, after all. I suppose you've had a lot of practice." He guessed an escort needed to be good at reading people, knowing what they were asking when they couldn't quite say it, knowing even how to just _be._

"It's always fun figuring out what people want," Becker said and then stood up, stretching, supremely unselfconscious in his nakedness. "I like the challenge."

Matt simply admired the view while he still had it and then regretfully watched Becker dress, tanned skin vanishing into his clothes. He walked him to the door, not bothering with any of his own clothes, and watched Becker pick up and count the money Matt had left out for him.

"Wait," he said suddenly, and scurried to find his wallet so he could shove a few more notes into Becker's hand. Becker was a service provider, right? You tip service providers when you're pleased.

And Matt was very, very pleased.

"Thanks," Becker said, a wide smile on his face, and pressed a quick kiss to Matt's cheek. "Well, it's been fun, Matt. Ask for me again."

Standing in his flat, alone once again, Matt realised that there was a good chance he might do just that. Paying for sex wasn't something Matt had ever intended on making a habit of, but he thought he might be able to make an exception for Becker. He had a feeling he wasn't the only one who would make a lot of exceptions for Becker.

_**End**_


End file.
